


Duty & Tradition

by skargasm



Series: Duty & Tradition [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Porn With Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Regent Derek Hale had wanted a marriage based on more than duty and tradition, but sometimes there was little choice for either party.





	1. Regent Derek Thomas of the Land of Hale

Derek stood at rigid attention, aware that he cut a fine figure in his regimental dress-wear but uncomfortable nevertheless. He was determined not to show his discomfort—his mother, Queen Talia, had drummed into him the importance of showing the Hale Dynasty in the best light. This alliance with the Kingdom of Beacon Hills was essential—the Argents were getting more and more brazen in their attacks. 

The ceremonial requirements of Beacon Hills might seem strange but they were to be abided by. According to his Uncle Peter, the chosen Omega would lie waiting for him in the matrimonial bed, fully prepared to do his duty. If it made Derek take a deep breath and wish momentarily that this not be a marriage of duty, tradition and convenience, it did not show on his countenance and no one would ever know.

He blinked rapidly, brought back to full attention by the double doors in front of him being opened. Stood in front of him were two of the Beacon Hill acolytes, both garbed in white hooded robes that hid most of their form from view. The maiden to the left had pale, clear skin and green eyes that appeared to take in Derek’s measure quite rapidly and find him wanting. Dark red brows gave the only clue to the rest of her colouring—nothing else was revealed.

The youth to the right was glaring at him—an expression that ill-suited his countenance. He looked like someone who was much more familiar with smiling than portraying such anger. The only reason that Derek could imagine for the anger was the marriage that was about to be consummated. Perhaps this youth had feelings for the Omega? A momentary pity swept over Derek—this alliance had taken no account of _anyone’s_ personal feelings. The death of Janek Stilinski had made Beacon Hills vulnerable—an alliance with the Land of Hale was necessary for survival.

“The Regent Derek Thomas presents himself ready to do his duty by the Land of Hale and the Kingdom of Beacon Hills.” Peter’s voice jolted him from his reverie and he tried once more to pay attention. The female acolyte to the left bowed deeply whilst managed to keep her eyes on Derek and his entourage—a feat indeed.

“The Omega Mieczyslaw Stilinski, the heir to the Kingdom of Beacon Hills, lies within, ready to do his duty.” Obviously rehearsed, the two acolytes gripped a door each and in unison stepped to the side, clearing the entrance.

Three steps into the room and Derek could see a giant four poster bed surrounded by white filmy curtains dominated the space. A fire had been lit, taking the chill out of the room but providing little warmth to the atmosphere. At least the curtains were not transparent—he could barely make out the shape on the bed. 

“Is the Regent aware of what must take place?” Derek didn’t need to look at his Uncle to be aware of what his expression would be like—Peter made little effort to hide his lascivious proclivities, having been accused of being unnecessarily creepy on more than one occasion. It would not surprise Derek if Peter had _asked_ to play the part of Counsellor so that he could be here for this. 

“Our Regent is well aware of what needs to take place. According to your customs, is the Omega receptive?”

“Omega Stilinski has been prepared according to our customs.” The sharp green eyes turned to him. “You are aware that there is to be no transformation until the appropriate time? This is to be a human to human mating.”

Derek nodded sharply, vaguely embarrassed to be discussing such things with a female he had never met before now. She made him feel like an undisciplined pup, unable to be trusted to control himself and his baser instincts.

“As per our customs, two representatives of Beacon Hills and two representatives of the Land of Hale will remain in the room. Their role is to act as witness to the consummation and they will play no other part. Is that clear to all?” This time, the green gaze rested heavily on the other acolyte and Derek could see the slightly crooked jaw clench before he too nodded his agreement. “Good—let us proceed.”

His role having been drummed into him over and over during the journey to Beacon Hills, Derek put his arms up automatically, standing still as Isaac and Boyd played their part and began to divest him of his regimental dress clothes. Eyes downcast, Derek stood still as he was stripped down until he stood in nothing but his breeches. He ducked his head as instructed as Boyd slipped a voluminous white nightshirt over his head, stepping back as it flowed down Derek’s body until it covered him to the knees. 

Derek fumbled slightly as he released the ties on his breeches, trying to remind himself that he was doing this for his family and for his Land. He bent over and pulled the breeches off of each foot before handing the garment to Boyd.

A goblet was placed into his hand and he made the mistake of meeting his Uncle Peter’s gaze.

“Drink up, Nephew—this will ensure you are able to perform. We wouldn’t want to fall at the final hurdle so to speak.” Derek scowled at his uncle but downed the contents of the goblet in one. He handed the empty vessel back and took a deep breath. Could he actually do this? Could he really give up all hope of a love match, climb onto the bed and do his duty? It all felt too close to dubious consent—what if the Omega Stilinski had no desire for the match either? What if he was being forced into this by duty and tradition? He felt his uncle step closer and flinched as Peter whispered furiously in his ear. “So help me, Nephew, that Omega **will** be bred by one of the Hales, even if I have to do it myself! Now get a grip and DO YOUR DUTY!”

A shove in the middle of his back sent him closer to the curtained bed, the breeze caused by the motion making the drapes flap slightly. The most unbelievable scent came wafting towards him and he felt his body have an almost instantaneous response to the entrancing smell. By all of the Gods! Unconsciously, he took another step forward, then another, pulling the curtains to one side and climbing up onto the bed.


	2. Omega Mieczyslaw Stilinski of the Kingdom of Beacon Hills

He was burning up. The enforced heat had hit him hard and he felt befuddled and agitated. He had barely felt when Lydia and Scott had bound him to the ceremonial bed, silk ties so that he would not hurt himself with his writhing around. The white hooded robe felt abrasive against his sensitive skin, the hood obstructing his view of everything but the heaps of pillows beneath him. What was taking so long? He could feel the slick between the cheeks of his ass, more than he had ever produced before, and he could not resist grinding his hips into the mattress, desperate for some friction on his aching cock. This was unbearable—he felt like his brain was boiling inside his head. Why was the Hale Alpha prolonging his torture?

If he had been in his right mind, Stiles knew he would have been thinking of everything but sex for a change. He knew very little about the Regent of Hale. All of the marriage details had been handled by representatives of both sides as per custom. Stiles trusted the Mage Deaton to do his best by Beacon Hills even if it meant Stiles himself was something of a sacrificial lamb. They were doing this so that the Argents did not get their hands on the important minerals that could be found in Beacon Hills; that they could not try to overrun Beacon Hills the way they had almost all of their surrounding neighbours. This alliance—this _marriage_ —meant survival for the land of Beacon Hills and a consolidation of power for the Land of Hale.

Stiles knew that Scott wasn’t happy with this turn of events. Not for reasons of jealousy –they were more like brothers in their love and affection for each other. Nay, Scott objected to Stiles being used as a political pawn. He wanted a love match for his best friend, not this enforced mating. But Stiles wasn’t as naive as Scott—he understood his role, knew that of the choices presented to them, this was the best outcome. From the time he had presented as an Omega, his father had been preparing him for just this eventuality. Admittedly, Janek Stilinski had not expected it to happen so quickly but his untimely death meant things had sped up. His brain turned quickly from thoughts of his father—he was in no state to think about his loss in a coherent fashion. 

Another wave of lust crashed over him and it was all he could do to bite back a moan. He could not bear this for much longer—the friction provided by the silk robe and rubbing against the bed weren’t enough to bring him any satisfaction whatsoever, and everything was starting to hurt. He opened his mouth to voice his displeasure and his need, tired of waiting at last, when his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of the curtains around the bed being parted, the sound of a gasp and finally, finally there was the heat of a large hand coming to rest on the small of his back on top of the silk robe. The scent of an aroused Alpha reached his nose, along with smells that hinted at the forest with an underlying sweetness. With no further thought, he pulled his knees up beneath him, dropped to his forearms and presented himself to be mounted.

Another loud gasp greeted his actions before he could feel two hands tugging and yanking at his robe, trying to pull it up so that it was at his waist. Burning hot hands touching his hips made him cry out and jerk forward involuntarily, another cry dragged from him when his hips were gripped tightly and he was yanked backwards. The bed gave slightly as the Alpha climbed up behind him and shifted close enough that Stiles could feel the heat of the Alpha’s lower body against his own.

“By the Gods, you smell so good.” The first words spoken directly to him by his Alpha made him preen, arching his back further to demonstrate his willingness. He was rewarded by the feeling of blunt warmth pressing against the tight furl of his asshole and unconsciously he held his breath. “No, no, my little Omega, you must breathe and push out. Do you understand?”

The voice was surprisingly soft in spite of the obvious urgent need and Stiles gave himself over to the desire to please his Alpha. He very deliberately took a deep breath and concentrated on pushing outward as the head of his Alpha’s cock pressed firmly against him and finally breached his tight hole. He could not hold back a mewl of protest as the intrusion continued, the Alpha pressing relentlessly forward until the threat of pain rapidly materialised into a stinging stretch that felt like too much too soon, despite the amount of slick he was producing. He tried to pull forwards, get away from that painful invasion, but the hands on his hips tightened harshly, tugging him backwards as the Alpha kept pushing, pushing, pushing, forcing himself into the depths of Stiles’ body. Panicked, Stiles was convinced that the Alpha would never stop, would keep pressing inwards until he had pierced all the way to Stiles’ heart. He could hear whimpering and realised that it was coming from himself, his fingers aching from the death grip he had on the silk ties that bound him to the bed. 

“Shush, shush, there now, it’s okay.” It took Stiles a moment to hear the words whispered in his ear, registering that the Alpha had stopped pushing and was now blanketing Stiles’ entire body. There was a throbbing, aching stretch in his ass and he felt like he was suffocating under the hood. 

“Please—“

“Just give it a moment—it will stop hurting in a moment. I had not expected you to be so tight.” The Alpha gave what felt like an involuntary push at that statement and Stiles cried out as it reawakened the pain, jolting him into trying once more to escape. “Sorry, so sorry! I will be still—just, don’t fight me okay?” The obvious strain in the Alpha’s voice froze Stiles in place, everything tensed against the possibility of further pain. 

“I cannot breathe.” The dim light in the confines of the curtained bed felt too bright to Stiles but he ignored the discomfort and took a deep shuddering breath.

“Better?”

He nodded in response to the query and could feel the muscles in his body unlocking with each clear breath. In an attempt to get more comfortable, he spread his legs slightly, gasping as it brought the Alpha’s weight more firmly onto him, pushed him what felt like impossibly deeper into Stiles’ body. It felt, well, not _good_ exactly but the pain was beginning to fade, the tide of false heat once more starting to take over his body.

The hands that he hadn’t realised were sweeping soothingly up and down his sides came to rest by his head. Tanned and large, he could see they were well formed, calluses and scars visible but not detracting from their attractiveness. 

“Are you ready little Omega?”

“Mieczyslaw—my name is Mieczyslaw.” He didn’t know why it was important but he wanted the Alpha to know who he was with. Stiles was not an anonymous hole, a cum-dump for some knot-headed alpha to use and discard. He was Mieczyslaw Stilinski of Beacon Hills and he would be recognised as such.

“Miescz—Miszevhi—Mischief? I am sorry, my brain cannot concentrate whilst I am inside you like this. May I call you Mischief?” Stiles was stunned by both the Alpha’s honesty and by the question—he was being _asked_ for his permission. It was more than he could have asked for from a prospective mate—far too often, Omega was taken to mean property. Then that soft voice was at his ear once more and he forgot his thoughts. “May I call you My Mischief?”

He nodded almost feverishly, the breath tickling his ear helping to reawaken the mating urge.

“Then I shall be your Derek until such time as you have decided on a name for me.” Stiles turned his head enough so that he could partially see the Alpha—no, Derek’s face next to his.

“Derek—“ Was that breathy voice his? He did not recognise it but found he did not care over-much as the Alpha suddenly pressed their lips together. It was awkward and perfect at the same time, lips soft and firm against his own and Stiles felt himself relax completely. He moaned as Derek immediately began to withdraw, pulling his hips back. “No, don’t go!”

At his protest, he felt Derek’s smile against his mouth before there was the delicious rub and slide of Derek pushing back into his body. He did it again, shifting slightly atop Stiles as though trying for a different angle. It no longer hurt but it _itched_ inside, as though something needed to be pressed or scratched or just somehow touched. Stiles squirmed slightly beneath Derek’s weight as he thrust back inside. Like a lightning bolt, Derek pressed against something inside Stiles that set off fireworks behind his closed eyelids and he cried out, jerking at the almost overwhelming sensations.

“Yes? There?”

“Gods yes, there!” With what could only be described as a satisfied grunt, Derek’s hands slipped from view as he pressed himself up and away from Stiles’ body. About to protest at the loss of the exquisite sensations, Stiles gasped loudly as Derek began to work his hips back and forth, harder and faster, his thrusts becoming stronger as each time the fat head of his cock prodded and teased at that spot inside Stiles that stole his every thought. 

Stiles’ hands were once more gripping the silk ties but now it was to ground himself. He lowered his head, once more struggling up onto his knees so that Derek could fuck him harder and deeper. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was loud, the rhythmic groans and grunts Stiles could hear himself uttering counterpoint to every delicious thrust. His cock felt like it was going to explode and that was with no friction whatsoever, and he began to writhe, needing something more. 

He cried out in shock when he felt Derek’s hands on the cheeks of his ass, pulling them apart and affording him a view that Stiles could barely imagine. 

“Jesus, the way you look! Your little hole opening to take me in, gripping me so tight—you feel like a dream My Mischief, like every fantasy I did not know I had brought to life.” The words pushed him higher, the sense of urgency growing. 

“Alpha—Derek—please, I need—touch me—“Any other time and he would have been embarrassed at the begging tone, but not now. Now he _needed_ —now he felt like he was going to combust unless Derek did something about the inferno consuming his insides. 

“I know, I know—I have you, My Mischief—I know what you need.” Derek’s voice was deeper, more guttural as he pushed harder at Stiles’ entrance. Stiles could feel the beginning of Derek’s knot, hot-skinned and beginning to swell at the base of Derek’s dick as he kept pushing. He wanted it—nay, he **needed** it inside him. That was the only thing that could quench this burning. 

“Please, Derek, give me your knot—I need you, please!” 

“Yes! I’ll give it to you—I want you to take it, take all of me into you!” 

A particularly hard thrust and once more Stiles felt overfull, stretched almost unbearably. Derek fell over his body, one hand coming to rest on Stiles’ dick and beginning to stroke. The pleasure wasn’t enough to distract Stiles from the feeling in his ass. He could feel Derek’s knot, swelling inside him, a hot pulsing right against that spot inside him. Then they were locked together, the constant press of Derek’s knot against that place inside him, the fierce stroking of his leaking cock finally enough to throw Stiles over the edge. 

It felt like the top of his head blew off, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and a long wail escaping him as the orgasm swept through his body and made him deaf and blind to everything else but how he felt at that moment. In the midst of what felt like the best orgasm of his life, he heard Derek roar, felt the first hot gust as Derek came inside him right before fangs struck the base of his neck in a mating bite and he lost consciousness.

* * *

Derek grunted as another pulse of come shot out of his body, the taste of blood in his mouth adding to his pleasure. He was locked in place, unable to do anything as the continuous waves of pleasure struck him over and over again, hips jerking spasmodically against the now bruised flesh of his Omega’s buttocks and upper thighs. He ran one hand lazily up and down Mischief’s spine, luxuriating in the silken skin beneath his fingers. The other hand traced the pattern of moles he could feel beneath the silk of the robe. He couldn’t wait to finally see his Omega fully—enjoy the sight of his body unobstructed, naked in front of Derek’s eyes alone. Finally, gaze upon his countenance. 

It was beyond strange to think that all he knew of his Omega was the smoothness of his skin; the tangled mass of his mid-brown hair; the plump touch of his lips in an awkward kiss; the tightness of his hole as he milked Derek’s knot dry even whilst unconscious. And of course his name—his unpronounceable name.

With care, he managed to manoeuvre the two of them over onto their sides so that they could be vaguely comfortable whilst tied together for who knew how long. He sliced through the silk ties that bound the Omega to the bed, retracting his claws before returning to running his hands up and down the smooth skin. Outside of the curtain, he was aware of movement, his instincts prickling and flaring as someone dared to get close. 

“We of the Stilinski household of the Kingdom of Beacon Hills witness and confirm the mating.” That was the girl’s voice—he recognised that enough to calm down slightly. 

“We of the Land of Hale witness and confirm the mating. May your union be blessed with many offspring.” Derek relaxed as he heard his Uncle’s voice, knowing that he and his Omega, his Mischief, were safe with his family and pack near by.

Another mini orgasm jolted through him, arching his spine as the pleasure tore through him. One final thought ran through his head before he succumbed to the pleasurable darkness dragging him down. Perhaps fulfilling his duty and abiding by tradition would not be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated to include knotting.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see!!
> 
> The slightly dubious consent refers to the fact that this is an arranged marriage. Also, Derek and Stiles both take something to bring on a fake heat. Again, this could be deemed as dubious consent. 
> 
> The voyeurism tag is because there are witnesses to the mating.


End file.
